Rock and Roll Never Forgets (The Rock and Roll Trilogy) (32 page)

“
No, stay Andy.” She patted the bed beside her. “Don
’
t leave me. You can hum it, I
’
ll get it,” and he knew that she would.

She slid back down, lying on her side as he started to hum the tune, then sing the words.

Captivated

Anticipated

That
’
s what you
’
ve done to me

That
’
s how you
’
ve made me feel

Hypnotized

Mesmerized

That
’
s what you
’
ve done to me

I know this love is real

Then he stopped. “J
ust playing with it,” he told her.

“
Play
more, finish it. It sounds good,
”
s
he murmured. She turned more on her stomach, toward him.
“
Andy?”

“
Yeah?”

“
I hurt really bad. Would you rub my back?”

“
A
nything you need, you know that,
”
h
e said, and she rolled to her stomach
.

He put his hand on her back and began to rub lightly. To him it was a loving caress. Just to touch her was heaven. To her it was helping ease her pain. He started to hum the tune again, no words, just melody, as he rubbed. After a while her breathing changed and he knew she was asleep again. He turned the light out and rubbed and hummed some more as tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

219

Rock and Roll Never Forgets

Chapter Twenty
~
Five

October 31, 2001 ~ Norton and Beth
’
s journey begins

Today
I arrived
to set in motion the process of gathering, collecting, and assembling the memories that Beth wants to share with others through her story.

I spoke with Andy for a while and then he led me to the sunroom where Beth was waiting. Kimmy was there getting Beth situated on the day bed.
It was almost five weeks after her surgery and s
he was up and able to get around some, but still could not sit because of the wound. She could only lie on her stomach or side.

“Hello Beth,” I said and leaned to kiss her cheek.

“
Thanks for coming. It’s nice to see you again.” Andy and Kimmy left
us
there, alone.

“
It
’
s really my pleasure. Thank you for
choosing me to
work with you on this. Roddy and Andy explained the circumstances.”

She told me that the first thought through her head was
;
‘
Thank God he didn
’
t say he was sorry.
’
It was
very important
to her
that no one felt sorry or pit
ied
her in any
way. That would have made it
‘
unbearable
’
.

She thought a moment, quietly, choking back emotion and replied;
“
When I knew what I needed to do, I
knew I wanted to work with you.
”

Suddenly, her tears came in a flood. I looked around and found a tissue for her.

“Sorry, I
’
ve become a bit of a gusher lately,” she said. “Anyway, I finally got a hold of a copy of that
first
article you did
on Andy
so long ago. Gosh that was twenty years ago wasn
’
t it? It was great. I had seen the pictures, have copies of some of them but I didn’t read it until recently. It was too difficult before, too many memories of that time. But as I read it I really liked the way you told the story. Kimmy knew that one day I
’
d want to see it so she saved it and brought it to me recently. The second article was sad, all of it such a lifetime ago,” she
said sadly.

The realization began to sink in. She knew what was happening, what she was doing, but it hit home really hard when I arrived. She told me that she was sad, really sad, for the first time. Up to that point she had been in more of a scramble mode getting things in place in her head. Getting things lined up to do what needed to be done.

“I tried to be
ready for your arrival.
I thought I was, but nothing could have prepared me for what I felt when you walked in that door,” Beth said with a heavy sigh.

We were preparing her ‘legacy,’ what she would leave behind for others to know about her.

“I apologize that I have to lay here like this, can’t sit, you know,” she said waving a hand in a nervous gesture. “We
’
ll just pretend I
’
m a goddess and maybe someone will come and fan me and bring us grapes,” she laughed trying to lighten the mood.

“
I have kept a journal, a diary, all these years, actually since I was a young girl. The first was a gift from my Pops and it turned into a ritual. It
’
s just something I do, keeping my thoughts, my memories, and my special conversations. They are all treasures to me. I didn
’
t want to forget, ya know? There are many of them. Take whatever you need. I have the ‘Andy Volumes’ stored. I will have Kimmy get them for you. Use whatever you think.”

“And Norton, can I call you Nort? Norton sounds so formal,” she said with a giggle.

“
Call me anything, just don
’
t call me…”

“
Late for dinner!” Beth finished the joke.
“
Thanks, I really needed to laugh…” 

“OK, Nort, so here
’
s the thing, I want to talk. I want you to talk to Andy. I want you to talk to John, Kimmy, and my folks, just everyone. It
’
s important to me that you do. Carlee will need this.”

“And when the time comes,” she had to stop a minute
.
That lump in her throat so big, she could hardly swallow. “Later,” she said, “give the journals to Andy. And between now and then if either of those men in my life says something wonderful about me, share it with me, deal?”

“
You got it. When do you want to start?”

“
Whenever you are ready, I
’
m somewhat of a captive audience for a while yet.”

“
Would you object to me recording our conversations? I like to
go back and
listen
, later
.”

“
Not at all.”

And so the process began.

~ ~ ~

Nov
ember
10
, 2001~
Kimmy gathered up all the journals and brought them to me first. They
’
d been boxed up in the attic. I was glad to get them early. I read through some of them before I handed them over to Nort. So many memories, most good, but a few, well…

Talking was much easier than she thought it would be. I tried to keep it comfortable and she made it easy to do that. Our conversations were like chatting with an old friend. We talked a few days and then I took the journals and left for a while. As I left I told her that I needed to do some research and would return in a few days.

“That just means you are going off to read the journals,” she laughed, then added “No one else has ever seen them.” 

“I will treat them as the treasures they are.”

~ ~ ~

I was gone about a week. I read every word, and as I did, each revealed the emotions she felt
when she wrote the entries.
I called several times to ask questions but not many
. She was very detailed sharing her thoughts, and the pictures in my mind were so clear I felt as though I was there.
Her words bore passion that, as a writer, I could appreciate. Some of the entries made me laugh and some were so descriptive that I could feel her emotions. When I returned we sat and I asked more questions, and as I did she cried.

“Tears come so easily these days,” she said in apology.

“Don
’
t apologize. I felt tears sting my own eyes a few times as I read.”

“I worried about what this would feel like, but it just feels like old friends talking about life, not like fifty questions or an invasion of any kind. After all this time avoiding the media,
spilling my guts seems odd
.”

But she knew why she needed to, for Carlee. She might hear things as she grew up and Beth wanted the real stor
ies
available to her. Not the tabloid stuff that she had lived with most of her adult life. Maybe the stories would answer questions that she would not be there to answer for her. Kimmy could, but these would be Beth’s words, her gift to Carlee.

~ ~ ~

Friday after Thanksgiving - Nov
ember
23
, 2001 ~
Ten weeks post-surgery, and it has been a special, busy time. The house is full all the time. It seems that every day people are coming in to visit and I love every second of the chaos!

There was a huge dinner party for Thanksgiving. Roddy and Vince were there. Liz and Vince were in the kitchen and cooked all the traditional favorites. As they banged pots and pans in preparation, a great
friendship grew.
They
included
me
in the celebration along with every one of Beth’s family, her brothers and their families, Kimmy and her family, Dina, Nathan and Megan.

The feast of Thanksgiving was everything that you could dream. Everyone shared stories, laughed, and ate, and ate, and ate. It was a wonderful celebration. Beth relished in all the people, the attention and the love. S
he looked around at the room she never dream
ed
could hold so many people.
It was a day that she was happy
.

November 26, 2001 ~
I will always think of that as a room full of love! I
worried at first that it would be somewhat melancholy,
‘
what if this is the last one,
’
but it didn
’
t seem sad, or reserved in any way. It was truly a celebration and everyone had fun. Fun has been short around here lately. The kids all played, and Megan got on the floor right in the middle of them. The guys watched football
and everyone had a great time.

Liz, Kimmy and Dina tried to get Beth to go Black Friday shopping. Even though she was getting around pretty good, and the wound was healing well, she still had a really hard time sitting for any length of time. A
n inflatable
donut was a part of life these days. And the Thanksgiving festivities had worn her out. They offered a wheelchair ride but she just wasn’t interested. She finally told them, that she just didn
’
t feel like it, didn’t want to shop; didn’t want to deal with the crowds. She just wanted to stay home. That whole day after Thanksgiving shopping thing was not appealing in any way. John took Carlee out for a while to see Santa.

With them all gone, I was alone with Andy, and I liked that. We were able to share great conversations again. He
’
d gotten past being so blue, and that helped a lot.

~ ~ ~

Andy and Beth were in the sunroom. He loved any time he
could
be alone with her. They shared great conversation again and it both warmed and broke his heart. They’d been talking, sharing memories for the book.

Andy was quiet a moment, reflective; “I need to tell you something,” he said finally.
“
I’ve been trying to figure out how for a while, but I need to explain. It’s been ‘in there’ too long,” he said pointing to his head, and then his heart.

Cautiously Beth asked, “What is it?”

“You may have to bear with me,” he told her. “I’ve only talked about it once in my life before, and that was a bad time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

“I want to start by telling you that it doesn’t justify an
ything, b
ut maybe it will help you understand,” he was trying not to ramble, but emotions were bubbling to the surface. He rose from the chair and paced trying to keep them in check.

             
Watching him Beth knew this was something major, something from that ‘dark time’ in his life.

“Not long after
Traveler
’s
name got out there, after people started knowing who we were, recognizing us,” he began, “I had a call from this woman who said she needed to talk to me about my dad. I blew it off at first, but she was saying things that held my attention so I agreed to meet with her. Thinking about it, I knew I really didn’t want to. I realized that I kind of knew what she wanted to talk about. As you grow older you start to recall things from your youth that maybe didn’t se
em such a big deal at the time.

“My dad was gone a lot, he worked long hours. Phyllis and I had a good life, but he wasn’t around so much. When he was home he was a good father, and it appeared he was a good husband. I never heard them fight, but as I got older I realized that I never really heard them talk much either. I was just so happy when he was home that I focused only on his be
ing there. I loved him so much.

“I met this woman for coffee, Rebecca,” he said remembering. “She told me I looked like my dad and as she said the words the realization really set in.
‘
She knew him.
’
She looked familiar, but I didn’t remember her from family things or friends of my mom and dad, and then it hit me. She had been at his funeral. And I remembered Phyllis being uncomfortable when she came in. But you know she wasn’t the type to cause any kind of scene, nothin
g to draw any attention to her.